Lawful
by DemetriaDumall
Summary: A year and a half after the final battle, the Minister of Magic imposes a new law to end the differences in blood. It affects two particular people in the most unorthodox way.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything**.

January 1, 2000

Minerva McGonagall was not at all pleased, in fact she was appalled. It was quite ridiculous. Quite ridiculous, indeed and yet, there was nothing to be done about it. No amount of grief from anybody, including her would change it.

With a heavy sigh, the aging woman rose from her desk and took a sturdy stance at the floor length window that accompanied her office. The first day of a new age was drawing to a close with rapidly dying sunlight and, though the one chapter they so wished to end had gone with the nineties, a major disaster was seemingly unfolding right under her nose once more.

" _Oh Dumbledore_." She whispered, turning to face his slumbering portrait. She missed him impossibly so. " _What are we to do? You wouldn't have let this happen, old man, would you have?"_

"It's completely mad so I don't doubt he would have!"

Minerva flinched violently at the sudden interruption.

" _For heaven's sake_ , Poppy!" She shrieked, clutching her chest. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

The old matron stood, looking a trifle more than irate, in Minerva's doorway. If there was one thing Pomfrey was good at, it was a tirade, and this, Minerva felt, was surely going to be a five-star event. Poppy ignored the reproach and hurtled forward, furiously waving a crumpled piece of parchment.

"Have you see this?"

Minerva took the parchment, placing her glasses on the brim of her nose. It was a letter, adorned with the Ministry seal and addressed to Severus Snape so she pursed her lips and felt the need to read no further.

"Yes." She sniffed. "I have, indeed."

Poppy gaped, mouth opening and closing at random intervals. "Well- well, are you going to tell me what it means or not?"

McGonagall threw a hard look, drifting back to her seat. "You can read, I'm sure."

That was bit harsh, now. She pinched her forehead, annoyed at her own rudeness. It wasn't Poppy's fault that this was happening but she certainly was not improving the situation by acting like a complete dimwit.

"It means what it says, I'm afraid."

"But they aren't serious. They _simply can not_ be serious!" There was a certain desperate panic in her voice. "Surely not Severus! Surely not! I'll admit, he's a proud fellow, yes, but not after all he's done for us. It's not fair!"

McGonagall quirked an eyebrow as if to ask ' _really_?' but motioned for Pomfrey to sit anyway. "As much as you or I would like it he's not above the law, war or no war." She admonished, sending a steaming teacup her way. "But, you've got it just about right."

"And Granger!" She positively screeched. "Granger? Really? The poor girl!"

Minerva made a small sound of dismay. Poppy had certainly hit a nerve there. It was silly how protective Minerva still felt over the girl, rather, woman now, despite the fact that it had been over a year since they'd actually even seen each other. Poppy was right, it really wasn't fair, not that she'd ever say that aloud.

"I agree, it seems rather an ill joke." To that she would willingly admit. "But, then again, the Minister swears it's a random match."

" _Random match_ , my eye! He hasn't got a shred of sense in that little head of his, has he? A law created to 'reduce prejudice,' that will only be the cause of more it. The thought!"

Minerva averted her eyes to the teacup in her hands. Poppy had a point, no doubt. Severus had always been rather rude to Hermione as a student, how was she to think he would behave differently in any other respect. She was quite sure they both resented each other. Severely.

"He's doing nothing but playing with people's lives, the bloody Minister is!"

Minerva grimaced once more. "Well now, it's not a completely horrid idea if one thinks about it. We certainly don't want another war, do we? And differences of blood have always been a, well, determining factor. Now I'm not condoning it," she said, quickly holding up a hand to stop Poppy who was clearly ready to burst with frustration, "but it has happened so you might as well start trying to look at the bright side."

Pomfrey continued to scowl.

"Hermione Granger and Severus Snape must marry. That's the end of it, Poppy."

* * *

The odds had been against them, that was for sure. Since the announcement of the unlikely law, the young couple had furiously attempted to get a marriage license, rather, to take themselves off the roster but unfortunately were very unsuccessful. The Ministry had made that little piece of parchment nearly impossible to get and while others had jeered, insisting that the legislation would absolutely never go into place, Hermione and Ron not once doubted that it would. They had seen war just like the Minister had and although, it seemed so very wrong to randomly arranging the marriages of hundreds, they knew why he had insisted upon it.

Their only hope was last night, when confirmed that assignments had been sent out, that they would somehow end up with each other's name.

Obviously that hadn't happened.

In all respects, the Weasley family had gotten extremely lucky. No envelope arrived for Ron meaning that he would not be, in fact, getting married. Somehow, Ginny and Harry managed to wed the previous week. George was found unfit for a bride due to his persistent psychological turmoil, Charlie lived in Romania still, and Percy, having some connections at the Ministry, wound up with his long time girlfriend, Penelope.

That left Hermione who, though not a Weasley herself, had taken up residence at The Burrow after the war. The name on her letter produced so much of a shock that she had fallen to the floor, right there in the middle of the sitting room.

Mrs. Weasley was outraged. Her face matched the color of her hair as she ranted on about it for the remainder of the day, bouts of sobbing being the only break in her continual rampage. There was nothing anyone could say to console either of them.

Hermione and Snape, what a pair.

A Ministry Official showed up at the burrow at a quarter to five. She was middle-aged, too old to have gotten an assignment, Hermione envied her. She stood in the corner unobtrusively next to Hermione's suddenly ominous packed bags.

"We could do it, 'Mione. We could run."

Hermione's eyes flashed to the woman. Her face betrayed her uniform. She was looking quite stricken, heart broken even, as if she didn't think this were a very good idea at all either.

"No. No, we couldn't." She answered resolutely.

Admittedly, it was a thought that had crossed her mind once or twice in the past few hours but logically she knew it was impossible. Wards had been placed on every way out of the country in an effort to keep others from carrying out similar plans.

"It'll be alright, Ron. It will be, I promise. Kingsley's running for Minister next year. You and I both know he'll win and when he does… when he does, he'll get rid of this law. I just know he will."

"But what about in the meantime! You can't marry that _git_! That bastard! A year? They can't make you!"

This was true, Hermione thought. The Ministry could not make her marry Snape, they could however, stick her in Azkaban Prison, which was the only other option. An ultimatum she wasn't quite willing to take. Hermione explained this to him again, heart breaking as his eyes filled with tears.

Suddenly Ron enveloped her in a bone crushing embrace which she returned with no hesitation. Sinking to the floor, they both had the feeling the time was drawing near. Ron sobbed violently while Hermione attempted to control her tears, determined to be strong. They both sat there for a moment, foreheads pressed together in silent grief before the Ministry Official informed Hermione that it was time to go.

"I love you." She whispered, as they rose to their feet. "I love you so much."

They kissed each other hard, falling once again into a tight embrace.

"I must insist, Miss. Granger." The woman said. She had Hermione's bags in hand. "It's time to go."

The couple pulled away. Ron turned furiously to face the woman.

"It's bloody stupid idea, I'll have you know!" He spit. "Your _precious_ , fucking, Ministry has got it all wrong. It'll never work."

The woman looked unabashed, if not saddened. "For both your sakes I pray it doesn't, Mr. Weasley."

It wasn't exactly a comforting thing to say, but she had tried all the same. Hermione felt the woman's warm hand on her shoulder, and allowed herself to be led to the doorway, closely followed by Ron.

"I don't care how long it takes, alright? I'll be here. I love you."

She reached for his hand but in that instant he was gone, swirling out of sight with a gust of wind and a loud pop.

" _It's not over_." Hermione thought.

But it was.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi all! I'm currently in the process of rewriting this story so if you've seen some of it before, don't worry p, it's still the same author. Please feel free to give me any criticism or ideas of what you'd like to see. Tell me what you do and don't like. Chapter 2 is locked and loaded and 3 on the way. Please review!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything.**

January 2, 2000

Hermione awoke with a gasp at a sharp rapping against the door. It hadn't been a particularly restful night, but she had managed to doze off at some point, causing her eyes to feel itchy with tiredness. She shot up in her bed, momentarily confused with her surroundings, but quickly felt her heart sink at the recollection of the previous day's events.

After she had been tearfully torn away from Ron, the Ministry Official had led her to a camp of sorts. It wasn't actually a camp in Hermione's mind, because the structure itself looked more regal than the five star hotel she had stayed in in France with her parents many summers ago. The Ministry had really outdone itself. Once again.

Upon arrival, Hermione had been assigned a room to be shared with another woman of childbearing age. Her roommate was someone she remembered very vaguely from Hogwarts named Juniper. Juniper was four years Hermione's senior and was to be married to a muggle-born that she had never even heard of. They didn't feel bad for each other and that's what formed a sort of instant connection.

"Time to get up ladies!" A voice called from somewhere in the hall. "There's much work to be done."

Hermione sighed, wiping away a tear that must have fallen in her sleep. This was not at all what she had expected her life to be like. She felt thwarted, played.

"What in the hell is she on about again?" Juniper grumbled and rolled over. "I thought the bloody point of an arranged marriage was that there is no work involved!"

Hermione kept quiet and dressed simply, pulling a warm peacoat over her shrunken shoulders. She and Eliza walked down to the dining hall and ate breakfast with the thirty other women involved. She was assigned to yet another Ministry official who was male but couldn't have been older than twenty four rather unlike the woman yesterday.

"Haven't you got an assignment?" Hermione asked rather rudely.

"No."

"So all of those at the Ministry are exempt, then?"

Hermione didn't really know why she was asking. Percy's situation already had her convinced that there was definitely an advantage to be found there. She supposed she just felt like being nasty, the situation warranted it.

"No. No, of course not! You must understand, Miss. Granger, all of this is, I mean all of it is completely-

"Random." Hermione laughed a little. Short and without humor. She'd heard that one enough for a lifetime in the past day. It really was almost funny that the Ministry thought it was somehow being clever. "Is that what you were going to say?"

"Yes. I was."

They had reached a portkey at the end of a corridor and the Ministry man signaled for Hermione to take hold.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

" _You're_ going to St. Mungos."

Hermione looked at him with confusion but decided against protesting and took hold of the thing. Within a matter of seconds she was standing in a private room that simply contained a bed. Suddenly, she got a particularly sinking feeling.

"You've got to be joking!" She screeched, spinning to face the door. Hermione startled again when a graying healer met her at eye level.

"I'm afraid not, Miss. Granger." She said archly, thrusting a paper gown into her hands. "Everything off, if you will. I'll be back shortly."

"Wait!" Hermione stopped the healer before she could shut the door. "What- what's going on here?"

The desperation and confusion in her voice must have been apparent because the healer's face softened greatly as she regarded her charge. "It's just protocol, Miss. Granger. The new law requires all parties to be- well, checked for anything unpleasant."

" _Unpleasant_?" Hermione asked incredulously. "You mean like diseases?"

The healer nodded and Hermione spluttered stupidly for a moment. Somehow this situation had managed to grow even more embarrassing. She was still a virgin, after all.

"And infertility."

" _Infertility_!"

"Yes, Miss. Granger. You're a smart girl, certainly, you understand the importance of reproduction now." She said.

"Well- well what if I am infertile? What then?"

"Then there would be no reason to marry, I suppose." The healer sighed, reading the flash of hope that flickered across the girl's face. "It's not a very noble thing to wish for, my girl, and quite unlikely, so don't… don't go getting your hopes up on that one. Now, if you would be so kind, I've got about twenty more of these to do today."

"I wasn't thinking of me." Hermione supplied hastily to stop the healer from leaving once more. "The man I'm supposed to marry nearly died in the war. I mean he literally was dead for a few minutes."

The healer fixed her with a sort of annoyed, expectant look. "And? I doubt that-"

"He was bitten by a snake. He had all this venom running through his veins!" Hermione's eyes flickered back and forth for a moment, lost in thought, heart beating erratically. "The treatment for such a severe injury... it must have been really... really, very, harsh on his body."

"I suppose it would have been."

"Do you think that- that it could have- er- altered his ability?"

"Again, it's unlikely, but still possible." The healer conceded at length then she pointed to the gown in Hermione's shaking hands. "You'll know soon enough I expect. Now hop to it."

Later that day, Hermione found herself back in the room she shared with Juniper, still slightly pink faced and feeling particularly violated.

The healer had cleared her on every level meaning that the marriage would still take place on her part but there was still the possibility of Snape having something the matter with him. It was a morbid thought, indeed, and she knew that it was completely ridiculous to be so hopeful on such a long shot chance but Hermione couldn't help it.

If everything went as planned in the Ministry's mind, she would be meeting with Snape later, in the evening, and they- together- would be ' _prepared for marriage_ ' whatever in the world that meant.

A few hours later, Juniper shuffled in grumbling about the uncomfortable exam followed by the Ministry woman who had taken Hermione away from Ron.

"Looks like everything's a go, Miss. Granger." She said with a false excitement. "You're to meet with a counselor now. Follow me."

Hermione heart dropped as she got up and floated to the door. It was if she was watching from the outside. Her feet were moving but her mind had slowed and she hardly noticed when the Ministry woman stopped and announced they had arrived at their destination. She offered the girl a small smile, that was meant to be encouraging but turned into more of a grimace.

Hermione's heart started to pound in her chest. Her hand fought her will on its way to turn the doorknob and her muscles instinctively tightened when she pushed it open. It was like being back at Hogwarts, pushing the door open to Potions class, knowing what a foul creature waited inside.

And there he was.

 _Snape_.

He didn't stand up when he heard her walk in. He hadn't even bothered to turn around, in fact.

Hermione set her jaw. If she had been a little weepy before, she wouldn't show it, she thought now that it would give him such satisfaction.

"Welcome!" The little man behind the desk trilled so electrically that Hermione jumped. She hadn't noticed him sitting there. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Conrad Thomas, your marriage counselor." He smiled and sat back down, motioning for Hermione to do the same which she did without looking at Snape. "I believe you went to school with my nephew, Miss Granger, Dean."

"Right, yes." Hermione nodded.

"And you taught him, Mr. Snape?"

"He was a complete imbecile so whether or not I taught him anything is highly questionable."

Officer Thomas looked shocked for a moment but then laughed a little nervously. "Snape, old boy, what a thing to say." He gulped. Snape wasn't laughing with him. "Anyway..."

Hermione noted out of the corner of her eye that Snape's knuckles had gone white as he clutched his hand in a tight fist. Perhaps he was just as uncomfortable as she was.

"Right, then. I haven't set a date for your wedding yet. Do you have a preference?"

Neither of them answered.

"So... so we agree, Tuesday, brilliant!" He scribbled something down. "You'll need a few witnesses. Perhaps either of you parents?"

Hermione averted her gaze to her shaking hands. "My parents are dead."

"Mine, as well."

Brilliant, one thing they had in common, dead parents. That sounded like five star way to start a relationship.

Thomas seemed uncomfortable once again. "Well, I suppose I can sort a few out for you two."

"No." Snape's icy voice cut through the air for the third time. He fixed Thomas with a steely gaze, very reminiscent of the way he used to look at Hermione, "That will be unnecessary. I've already accounted for witnesses."

Hermione turned to look at him for the first time and was surprised to see his cheeks glowing red as he explained to Mr. Thomas that McGonagall and Pomfrey had requested to be witnesses at the wedding. With this information Hermione felt a bit more hopeful.

" _Smashing_!"

The wedding was set to take place in two days on a Tuesday and it had been decided that Hermione would go and live with Snape since his work required him to stay overnight. She, however, could commute to her law firm through the floo in McGonagall's office.

"Now, the last thing is-" Mr. Thomas pushed a piece of parchment towards them. It looked something like a calendar. "is procreation."

Hermione immediately felt the blood drain from her face and for a moment considered the possibility that she may pass out. It was completely uncomfortable to be talking about such a subject in front of her former professor- who had hated her, mind, and even more so humiliating when the topic in question concerned the two of them- together. It was silly but up until this point, even after all that had happened, Hermione hadn't truly considered the idea of sleeping with Snape.

"As a part of this law, you two are required to conceive." Thomas said. "Now, if you look here, I've created a schedule based on your most fertile days, Miss Granger."

Hermione felt her mouth fall open, unable to fight her clinical curiosity despite the embarrassment. "How do you know that?" She asked sharply.

"I've consulted with the healer you were examined by today."

It was Hermione's turn to glow violently red. She slumped back into her seat. This simply could not get any worse.

"So you two are required to partake in- er- these activities on- well, let's see..." He looked closer at the calendar, "January 13th and 14th. That's nearly two weeks from today. As part of the law, this aspect will be highly enforced, so understand me when I say that the consequences could be severe if this is not abided by."

Alright, it just got worse.

Hermione didn't dare look at Snape and she got the feeling he was thinking the same thing.

"I suppose that's all you two need to know. We'll be meeting again in a few months to talk about your marriage so- yeah that's all for now. The people from the Ministry will take you back to your camps."

Snape quickly stood and stalked out of the room without a glance to Hermione. She looked to Mr. Thomas who gave her an apologetic look.

"It is random, Miss. Granger."

Hermione nodded and sniffed, but found herself thinking that perhaps it would be easier just to go to Azkaban.

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks for reading. More Snape/Hermione awkwardness next. Thoughts? Criticism? I'm ready! Please review!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything.**

January 4th, 2000

"You are not wearing _that_!"

Hermione sprung backwards, narrowly avoiding a complete collapse as she stumbled over a stray heel lying right in the middle of the floor. She blinked furiously at the sight before her.

Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey stood, beaming in the doorway, dressed in elegant calf length dresses of deep maroon and violet.

"I- I was- well, yes I was planning on it." She managed, running her hands down the simple gray frock she often wore to work. "Is something wrong with it?"

McGonagall smiled more brightly, and slid into the room. "No, but it hasn't got the right feel to it, has it?"

Hermione shrugged, still trying to work out why the women had appeared at her door. She watched dumbly as they both buzzed around for a moment.

"I thought you may try something like this." Madam Pomfrey said as if they had actually even spoken in the last two years. She regarded Hermione a little grimly for a moment before laying out a long bag on Juniper's empty bed. "Not to worry. I've come prepared."

Looking quite satisfied, McGonagall came and kissed a dazed Hermione on the cheek. Her raven hair still in a tight bun but with a certain curl to it.

"How are you holding up, my dear?"

Only then did Hermione realize the immense relief she was suddenly feeling with McGonagall and Pomfrey there. She broke out into a watery smile that quickly turned into profuse tears.

"Not very well, I should say." McGonagall remarked, throwing a comforting arm around her shoulder. "I only wish there was something I could say to make it better."

"You can't say anything, I'm afraid, but you can certainly do something!"

Madam Pomfrey had begun rummaging through her pockets. She pulled out two small bottles and enlarged them, pouring half of the first into three glasses. Hermione watched her tearfully, eyes burning even more so when the old matron pushed a glass into her hands and another into McGonagall's. The liquid reeked of pure alcohol.

"It's fire whiskey, best to do it in one go."

Hermione looked doubtful and McGonagall seemed equally annoyed and thankful.

"If you're old enough to be married, you're old enough to have a drink, for heaven's sake!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, bustling familiarly over to the open window. "All this crying," she muttered, lighting a cigarette and bringing it to her lips. "It makes me nervous."

Hermione stared wide eyed. She did know weather it was the sight of the matron smoking or the frazzled nature of them both that caused her to burst into laughter.

"Are you quite alright, Hermione?" McGonagall asked in concern. Just a moment before, the girl had been sobbing her eyes out.

"Yes. I'm fine. It's just-" she wiped her eyes, "I'm so glad you're here, both of you."

"We wouldn't miss it for the world." McGonagall said with another wide smile. "Now, I suppose you do need this after all."

Hermione took the glass and downed it. She hadn't ever had fire whiskey before but it lived up to its name, seemingly setting flames to her throat as it went down. Fortunately, after a few moments a pleasant and warm sensation spread through her chest.

"Miss. Granger," a sharp voice called from somewhere out in the hallway, "Miss Granger, I know you haven't got a cigarette in there."

"No, she hasn't." Madam Pomfrey called, furiously waving the smoke out of the window and slamming the door shut with the flick of her wand. "I ought to give this to you before they boot me. Let's see, it's something old, borrowed and blue."

She opened the long bag that laid on the bed and produced an exquisite powder blue dress very reminiscent of the early fifties. It was sleeveless, just past the knee. There was delicate lace on the bodice and it puffed out slightly at the hips. Hermione slipped it on with ease and McGonagall and Pomfrey helped her tame her hair and pull it into a pretty bun much like how she wore it to the Yule Ball.

As soon as they had finished, Hermione took another glass of fire whiskey and downed it. Then it was time for the elder women to leave, Poppy slipped a small bottle into Hermione's hands, away from Minerva's gaze. Immediately Hermione recognized it as a very strong calming draught but she didn't hesitate to drink all of it.

Her hands stop shaking so furiously, the beating of her heart slowed and her breathing calmed.

She and the Ministry woman apperated to the Ministry and took the elevator to the Marriage Department. A few strangers were still hanging around, looking quite subdued, perhaps they had just witnessed a wedding that wasn't at all agreeable like the one that was soon to occur.

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin when Snape slid up beside her.

His presence was so shocking.

He was dressed in a black velvet suit and his hair was slicked back handsomely, which was quite an improvement compared to his usual limp and greasy mane. But what shocked Hermione the most was the little powder blue rose he wore in his pocket. It matched her dress perfectly.

Suddenly, she found herself fighting the urge to laugh. Her hand shot up over her mouth in attempt to hold it back.

"Is there something funny?" He threw Hermione a scathing sideways glance which only made her shoulders start to shake with silent giggles.

"I- it's- it's just all of this." She managed. "I mean you hate me."

Snape watched his future wife with disgust as she continued to cackle.

"You smell like the Three Broomsticks." He remarked, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back up into a vertical position. "I will not be humiliated like this, do you understand? Control yourself, Granger."

She jerked her arm from his grip, all humor gone from her posture. "If I don't laugh I'll cry." She muttered, trying to hold back the anger in her voice. "And I'm not your student anymore- just so you know."

Snape rolled his eyes. "That's a blessing."

"No, I'm just your fiancé." She retorted, the buzz from the fire whiskey beginning to wear off. "So you can stop treating me like a child."

"I will when you stop acting like one."

Hermione shook her head in dismay. She was actually about to marry this man but she needed to make it work, she wouldn't allow herself to be completely miserable for the rest of her life.

"I'm sorry to be so disappointing but I certainly don't like this any more than you do." She said harshly. "Can we- can we just agree to be civil with each other?"

Snape grunted. "I suppose, that's the most intelligent thing I've ever heard you say, Granger." He said without thought, shifting uncomfortably at his unintentional sarcasm. Hermione took it as an apology. "I mean, I think that is wise, although, it's in my nature to be... you know..."

"I'm quite aware of that."

"Alright. Just so you know."

The doors opened. A minister was standing at the end of a short walk way and the couple began to move towards him.

"Let's get this over with, then."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading. My motivation is completely gone for this story so this may be it. If anyone wants to adopt it, message me please!**


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